In The Shinigami's Shadow
by DisillusionedIllusions
Summary: Death Smiles at us all, all a man can do is smile back. Twelve years after Kira is defeated a young man struggles to find his place in a dark world, a world he wants no part of.
1. Chapter 1

Life is a strange thing. It's both simple and complicated. Many times have I looked in the mirror, stared into those empty orbs and wondered.... What exactly am I suppose to do? I know what everyone else wants me to do, but what do I believe I'm supposed to do? Isn't that the most important? Why should I consider anyone else's opinions? Why should I even care about anyone else for that matter? After all, L died because of his own disregard for his own well being. If it had been me I would have ditched those stupid, senseless agents and ran to the Bahamas, sipping pina coladas and basking in the sun on the white shores day after day. Let the world rot. To hell with Kira, he was doing the world a service after all, wasn't he?

L was an idiot. He should have known better, the good guys always loose. So now he's dead. For what? He wasted his entire life trying to make the world a better place but now it's as bad as ever before. What exactly did he sacrifice himself for? Justice? There is no such thing. His own peace of mind? It doesn't matter now that he's dead. Then what for? I don't know and I may never know but there is one thing I do know. I'll never do that. I'll never lay my life on the line for someone else. Not for anyone, not even Near. I live for myself and only myself.

The shinigami said death is equal and once we die, that's it. There is no heaven or hell. Then, in that case why not do whatever the hell we want. Who cares about what other's do. They aren't important. Let us live fully and seek what makes us happy no matter the consequence. Life is cruel, that's a fact and no matter how hard L tried, no matter how persistence Near is, it won't change. Sometimes I wish a death note would come to me so I can write Near's name in its pages and put him out of his misery. But, that will never happen. Oh, well.

We are all just toy soldiers. Little globs of green plastic. We are nothing but playthings to the shinigami, toys in which they can manipulate and poke fun of. I like playing with them. It reminds me of the futility of this stupid existence. But, now it's getting boring. Near wants me to help with his cases but I avoid him when ever possible. I help sometimes, not because I share his pointless sense of justice but because I'm board and I am curious just how much I posses of that capacity for reason that L so firmly grasped. And I wonder can I surpass Near, L? It shouldn't really matter but it does and I really don't know why.

So, now I sit here, playing with toy soldiers. Geez, Near is how old now? Thirty-one, I think. He never really gave me a straight answer. But a grown man still playing with all these toys. How pathetic. I guess I'm pathetic for playing with them too, but at least I have a good excuse. I'm mature for my age, I feel so much older than sixteen but at the same time I feel like a naive child, stubborn and selfish too. Who cares? I don't. Bang! Crash! A bomb has befallen the squadron and everyone dies. Poor soldiers. Told you, the good guys always loose. Better start the memorial services.

I abandon the toys and walk to the couch grabbing a handful of Oreos from the table and plop down on the plush. It feels like I'm floating on water, and then again Near has weird tastes. He likes soft things. He still walks around in pajamas for god sakes. I'm convinced he has never been outside once but then again I can't really judge him, cause neither have I. But, that will change soon. Staying here, locked up like a dog is going to make me crazy.

"L, Have you seen my new airplane kit?"

Damn him. I hate when he calls me that. And, how should I know what he does with his stuff. Maybe if I pretend to be asleep he'll give up and go look for it himself. Fat chance.

"L? What are you doing?" His voice annoys me. I don't know if it's the calm, collected tone or just because he's too lazy to leave the station room and come speak to me instead of talking through the over head.

"Are you asleep?" He asks again. I can sense a hint of sarcasm in his voice.

"Yes." I answer plainly, licking the cream off the Oreo.

"Have you seen my new airplane kit? The one Matsuda delivered yesterday." Did I mention how persistent he is?

"How should I know what you do with your own things?" He's an idiot, how did he even come out of the Yellow Box warehouse alive? Oh that's right. Mello saved his sorry ass. Hmm, sometimes I wonder, just how much fun I might have had with Mello.

"Well, I'd like your help on this case. You can look for it on your way here." Near said, sounding much more like a demand.

"I'm sleeping, remember?" I don't like being ordered around, especially by Idiots.

"You're lazy." He said, his voice heavy with agitation.

"Then what would you call me having to fetch you everything?" He couldn't help but to pout.

"Kindness."

Surprisingly, his tone was soft and gentle. That set me back a little but didn't relieve my frustration. "Fine." I said.

I grabbed a few more Oreos from the table and exited the lounge room through the automatic door and proceeded down the hallway. I dodged a Lincoln log and building block here and there and made it a habit to watch the floor when walking anywhere. After having stepped on a top solder once, barefoot, I promised my aching sole I wouldn't do that again. Sometime I truly feel like a parent caring for this stupid child.

I want to leave this place.

Oh, look there it is. His airplane kit had been stashed with all the other stuff that brainless Mastuda bought for Near. I don't get it. How can Near be a genius and be so stupid at he same time as not to realize to look at the other stuff that had been brought in? He may have impeccable reasoning skills, but I think he lacks old fashioned common sense. I snatch the box and look at it as I continue down the hall, keeping one eye on the carpet. It look fun enough, I won't admit that out loud though. I'd rather have a remote control miniature air plane though, like one I saw on TV.

I return my attention to the walkway and come to the door of central station. I hesitate before going in. Near is kneeling down on the floor, stacking legos. He looks up at me like a begging dog and then his eyes trail to the box in my hand.

"Thank you." he says sincerely.

I want to comment on how he is stupid not to realize it was with the other toys but bite back my tongue. I toss it on the chair.

"Tell me. What do you think of that?" He asks loosely, never bothering to indicate exactly what he's referring to. But then again he doesn't have to.

The computer monitors are on, scattered with the photos of his latest case. I cringe at the sight of mangled flesh and blood stained carpet. A middle aged man, Carl Lewis, Pawn shop owner had been found murdered in his own home. His throat had been cut and a golden crucifix, placed around his neck. He was the tenth victim killed in the same matter scattered over Illinois, Wisconsin and Indiana in the last three months. Stuff like this doesn't give me nightmares, at least not since I was eight but it was enough to disgust me. Human nature is dark and twisted but I had learned to accept it a long time ago.

"I don't know." I lied.

"Hmm..." He said twirling his finger around his white locks. I still wonder to this day if he bleaches his hair. "You might want to review the details again."

"I don't really care to help you with any cases right now." I said folding my arms across my chest. I wanted to go back to my room and continue being miserable as long as I stay here.

"Well, you should care. It's your case now." He said casually.

"What! Are you serious?" No way am I bothering with this case. But, why was he turning it over to me. This was something Near would take top priority in, something L would... Oh, I get it now.

"Serious as a heart attack." He said with a straight face.

"Your sense of humor fails." I remained defiant as ever. I'm not taking this, no way.

"Not as badly as your deduction abilities. You know the details of the case. I would expect you could contribute at least a mundane idea." I couldn't believe the words spewing from his mouth. They were full of spite and he was talking to me as if I am an idiot. That bastard! I couldn't help but to stand there dumbfounded.

I said the only thing I could. "And what makes you think I even care?"

Near stopped what he was doing and sat there, motionless as if my words had frozen him. He peered out from the corner of his eyes, his dark orbs full of shame and a glint of shock. He couldn't believe what had just come out of my mouth. I held my breath. Had I really become that heartless?

"You should care. You're my heir. Your L's heir. Don't sully his name." He continued playing his hair, watching my reaction.

"I don't want that responsibility." And that was the truth.

"L didn't want to die, either." Near spoke stoically, as if anything I would say wouldn't faze him.

I furrowed my eyes brow and bit back my words. I saw were this was going. He was just going to compare me again to L. I don't want to hear it. Not anymore. "Fine." I said, pouting. I left the room calmly entered the hall and hurried back towards my room. I don't want to be compared to him any more. I'm not like him and I'll never been. I don't want to be like him. I won't waste my life for other people who don't give a damn about me. L was a fool. He deserved what he got.

I wasn't going down that path, not ever.


	2. Chapter 2

By them time I returned to my room, anger had boiled over and I plopped down on the bed. I crossed my arms. I don't want to do this. But, I don't want to listen to Near lecture me about what's expected of me and blah, blah, blah. All the pointless bullshit. He would bring up L's past achievements and go on about how I should lose the 'know it all' attitude. Well, I may not know it all but there are a few things I do know. And one thing I do know....

.....One thing I do know is that I'm going to finish off those Oreos.

I jump from my bed and snatch a half eaten bag of Oreos. I don't bother to lick the cream off first, just stuff them in my mouth and crunch. I had been so mad that I hadn't realized that Near had already sent this case information to my computer. There on my screen were the crime scene photos of the earlier victims, up close and personal. I guess any normal person would have lost their appetite at this point, but not me. Oreos' are the best!

I sighed heavily. I'm going to have to do this, aren't I? I rub my eyes with my palms and get up from the bed, taking the bag of goodies with me. I crash on the chair and lean back and stare at the photos for a few minutes. I know most of the details already. Even if it was L's custom to not get involved in a murder case unless there were at least ten victims, in which this was the case now, Near would often keep an eye on overly gruesome and peculiar cases. He really took notice once the case hit eight victims and had started hounding me to look at it. So, now he was turning it over to me. Damn, it!

I can't work with out noise! I reach for my Boise headset and crank up Maximum the Hormone as far as it will go. Maybe if I'm lucky, I'll make myself deaf and then I won't have to listen to Near's bitching any more! I'm going to do this right and hopefully flawlessly. Maybe then Near will get off my case. I honestly don't know if I posses the abilities to succeed Near, and of course L, but even if I did I wasn't going to anyway. I don't want this life. Even Near said, as intelligent as he is that neither he nor Mello had the capacity to surpass L, so why exactly does he think I do? That's a stupid question; of course I know why he thinks that but......

Maybe I should start from the beginning. I flip through the photos and pages and pages of data until I come to Edward Smith, the first victim. The police believed it was a robbery gone wrong or the murderer had some personal vendetta against the said victim. I was reasonably to assume so. Robert Smith of Albuquerque, New Mexico was a 62 year old shop owner of Rob's Pawn. He had had his throat cut. The murder weapon was never found but forensics deduced a sharp, jagged utensil much like a common steak knife had been used. A golden, rather expensive (for the victim's income) crucifix had been placed around his neck. Stuff like this wasn't uncommon with gang murders and that's what the police deemed the crime as. That was of course until more victims turned up. Each pawn shop owner or employee and each been killed in the exact same manner, gold crucifixes placed around their mangled neck.

All the victims had been male, not all that strange. However what is curious is that four of the pawn businesses were joint owned by the victims'' wives, so why then had the killer only murdered the husbands? I could just be coincidence. Probably not. In this line of work, there is no coincidence; the smallest detail always means something. Near always reminded me of that. So now, perhaps for once I was taking his advice. I looked over every page of data, every photo.

Hmm... I'm sure Near had noticed this already, but the last three victims had received a small puncture through their heart. Something very small, like a needle, not fatal. Either the autopsies of the seven other victims had missed this or didn't report it. How interesting. I'll have Matsuda see if he can have the earlier victims inspected again to see if they too have had their hearts punctured but most of them had already been laid in the ground. Getting permission from all the families would take too long. I'll just have to take in consideration that it's very likely, more than %82 that every single victim had had their heart pricked. So, what exactly does that mean?

It's clear that the murders are the work of some deranged serial killer and that he's trying to tell the police something. But what? All victims are males of various ages and various locations. All pawn shop owners or employees and it's safe to assume that all had their hearts punctured by a very small object. The killer obviously has a message to relay or else he wouldn't have so meticulously carried out the crimes. There were no witnesses, no prints, hairs, nothing. Just the message. I'll find it. You'll see, Near.

I'm thirsty. I reach to the side, to a mini fridge and pull out a Dr. Pepper and start chugging it down. It's weird. Not a few hours before I had zero interest in this case, but now it's as if those photos are screaming at me. It's as if the killer is taunting me, daring me to try and catch him. I suddenly feel competitive as if I'm the one that has to have the last laugh. Fine, Near, I'll solve this. Not for you, or for the victims but because I want to know how far I can go.


	3. Chapter 3

I had spent most of the night reviewing the case. The clock read 4:41 a.m. A pile empty Oreo bags lays scattered across the floor along with several drained bottles of Dr. Pepper. I sat lazily in the leather chair, chewing on a plastic straw. Fiddling with things often helps me think, don't ask me why. My eyes hurt but I had discovered a fierce determination I hadn't known existed before. NIN rung in my ears, softly as they had become sensitive after hours and hours of hard rock and metal. I was tired but my curiosity was too great to be soothed.

I hadn't made much progress, other than committing the entire case to memory. All the crucifixes were of the same make, but oddly, all sold through Light's Hope Church Goods. There was no sure way to trace them back to the killer because they were of common design that had been marketed for some ten plus years. The speed and wide range in which the murders were occurring was, for lack of a better word, amazing. Ten murders in three weeks, all in different parts of the U.S. Yes, going back to the beginning was a good idea.

New Mexico, New Jersey, New York, Texas, Florida, Illinois, Washington State, California, Florida, Georgia. I had organized the murders state by state in order of occurrence. Three weeks, ten victims in such a wide range. It seemed almost possible. But, the important question was why. Why these particular people in the particular places? Forget that it was impossible to have carried them out so quickly and flawlessly. I had dismissed the idea that it was more than one individual long ago, everyone thing that I knew, my basic instinct told me it wasn't some cult or organized group but the act of a single individual. I might be wrong, but whatever. Even if it was the act of a group, that wasn't important. What was important is why these people? Why these places?

N, N, N, T, F, I, W, C, F, G. The first letters of the states. Could be a code, possibly. Reversing the order doesn't help either and there's no proof to suggest that the killer had only planned to carried out exactly ten murders. You can't decipher many words from them either, at least none that give any clues. Hmm... So then, ignore the states.

Albuquerque, Palestine, Puckett, Linville, Ellisville, Salince, Uniquius, Norristown, Darlene, Oinmious, the towns in which the murders were committed in order. A, P, P, L, E, S, U, N, D, O. Huh? Applesundo? Apple Sundo? Apples Undo? What the hell. Could be reversed if there is even a message there. It makes no sense. Hmm... Undo Apples? ARG! I bit down hard on the straw, this is annoying. What is the killer trying to say? Is there even a message hidden here or is it just some jerk off making fun of me?

I stare at the screen blankly, flicking the straw with my tongue. There are no coincidences, not in this line of work. I find it strange that the first letters of the towns would spell out such a peculiar phrase and if the killer wasn't even done then its very possible further murders would spell something out audible. Then...

I quickly navigate through the data and pull up the victims' names and arrange them in order by execution of date. Edward W. Smith, Larry I. White, Alfred L. Cummings, Farris L. Hammond, Terrence B. Oliver, Emile E. Avalos, Richard Y. Kite, Ellis O. Grand, Lanson U. Richardson, Xavier R. Xarlius. E, L, A, F, T, E, R, E, L, X. Another jumbled mess. I sigh... there might not even be anything to the locations or the victims'' names. But, that message is hidden somewhere, I just need to find it.

Starring at the screen has given me tunnel vision. My eyes hurt and my vision has become blurry. I can no longer listen to music and I'm out of Oreos! Damn that Near! I want to quit but my curiosity is peeked. I wonder, though, did L ever feel like quitting? Did he ever think, in his last few final moments that if he had walked away from the Kira case that he might have survived to fight another day? I can only speculate. No, I don't think he would have quit. But, if he had known before hand how and when he was going to die would he had still been stubborn in continuing the investigation? Who knows?

Huh? I jump up from my chair and close in on the screen. E L A F T E R E L X, EL AFTER EL X? That's impossible! El = L? L AFTER L? How can this be! Is this the killer's message? Was he counting on L to get involved? But... L AFTER L. The L after the original L? No one knows, except for the few that worked with the SPK and Japanese police that the original L died and that Near now operates under L. And those that do know, know about Near, so wouldn't it be N AFTER L? Near after L? Why did the killer use the term EL and not just L? EL, same sound, two words. Two? Second? The second L? WHAT!

ME?... The second L? How is this possible?!

I back up into my chair. This is impossible. I'm my state a stumble and a crumples piece of paper hits me in the head. I catch it. I can't believe this. I'm speechless. Near can't know about this, if he had....

Everything has become so clear to me now. The seemingly jumbled mess of first letters dance and fall in order. It's like this message was made for me to find and only me. EL AFTER EL X? Could the last names spell something out too? What about the middle initials? All of the victims had a middle initial. W I L L B E Y O U R. I can't believe what I'm seeing. The Middle. Middle names like the towns INSIDE the state.

APPLES WILL BE YOUR UNDO!

I swallow hard, my throat feels parched. My eyes sting and burn and my ears ring. I step back. I feel flustered as if I need to get away, far away. But there is no escape. I can't go back, only forward. The mass behind me won't let me go back. I stumbled over junk and I can feel it shift softly to allow my fall. WHAT'S GOING ON?


End file.
